Fallen Rose
by PhantomAngel042
Summary: The tale of what happens after Christine's betrayal and the Phantom's fall from glory. An extension of ALW's movie.
1. Chapter 1

All right, it's a new one! Kind of a songfic. Only a little. I own no characters or words or anything, all copyright belongs to the Really Useful Group, Inc. (or whatever). Fun stuff. I want Gerry... Hmm...

Decisions

In the oppressive silence, a soft melody played through the darkness. Loving and plaintive, the words were barely definable through the gloom: _Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime... _And a higher voice, obviously female, answered uncertainly. The two voices blended as they faded out of hearing, echoing softly for a few moments against the sleek cavern walls.

Another voice cried out, so softly that the sound barely carried past trembling lips. _You alone can make my song take flight..._ A figure knelt in a pool of candlelight, clutching a rose, his features distorted, tears falling freely across his cheeks; one, perfectly smooth, trim and healthy; the other, scarred and ruined beyond all hope, a horrific parody of the human feature it should be. He stood sharply, dropped the bloom, and called into oblivion: _It's over now, the music of the night!_

Far off, on a gondola gliding silently away from the scene of anguish, a young girl clutched onto the arm of a tall blond man. She gazed, intently and silently, back through the darkness which they had just left, listening for any sound that might echo through the caverns. The sound of the voice carried across the distance, and her eyes filled with tears to hear the agony of the cry. She buried her face into the man's sleeve, sobbing softly. He smiled grimly down at her, misinterpreting her pain for fear.

"Christine..." he said softly. "Nothing can harm you now. We have escaped that monster, and as soon as we are gone, I will have him hunted down. He can never harm you again."

"Oh, no Raoul! You can't! Don't harm him!"

"Why ever not? There is no reason for you to protect him! He is a murderer, no better than a vicious animal! I will not have him kept alive so he finds you, Christine! I will not have him take you again!"

"He never took me," she replied softly. "There was never a time that I did not go freely."

"Christine, all the things you've told me... Everything he's done to you, everything he's put you through... You spoke to me on several occasions of fear for your very life. How can you tell me now that you went to him voluntarily? What of just now, a few hours ago, when he stole you, in front of an entire audience, as he burned the Opera Populaire to the ground! How can you protect him, Christine? Why do you protect him?"

"I can't help it... He taught me to sing, he was my companion for years when all I knew was heartache and loss. He became a constant in my life, and despite everything that's happened, I believe he is a good man. And despite myself, I began to..." She trailed off miserably, refusing to meet Raoul's gaze.

"To love him," Raoul said softly. "You still love him. Don't you? I should have known. Don't you love me also? Do I not also hold any piece of your heart?"

"Of course, Raoul. You were my first love, and I do still love you, and I believe I always will."

Raoul had stopped poling, and the boat slid to a silent halt. "But?" he prompted.

"But," she sighed, "I will always love him more than anything else this world can offer. You, Raoul, you mean so much to me. As much as I loved you when we were young, you were like a brother to me; you offer kind, strong, dependable love, a steady devotion that I admire. But I could never return it when my heart, my true desire, would lie with Erik. I do love you; I wish you to know that. But Erik is everything that you are not; fiery, passionate, unpredictable, unstable. He loves me with an intensity that almost burns. And I cannot be asked to ignore that, to ignore the way I respond to him, for you. If it were any other way, if I had never met him, it would not be this way. I could give myself to you wholeheartedly. God, how I wish I could! But, Raoul, if you love me, you will let me go to him. He acts the way he does because I denied him. I think... I can change him. I need to try, at least. Please tell me you understand," she whispered, taking both his hands in her own.

He gazed at her silently for a second, then bent down and kissed her sweetly, with longing and desperation. He pulled away and sighed. "I do."

"Come," he said sadly, turning the boat around, "we must return. I will accompany you back to his... lair, to assure him that this is no deception."

Christine kissed his cheek, and whispered, "Thank you, Raoul. For everything you have given me. Especially my freedom." She sat down on the seat in the gondola, and the two traveled in uneasy silence back into the oppressive darkness from which they had so recently fled.


	2. Chapter 2

Um, I don't own any characters or anything. This story is a little aimless right now, but I'm sure it will get a purpose eventually. If you have any ideas, let me know. I'm certainly open to help with inspiration...

Chaos Ensues

When they reached the shore that they had just left, only twenty minutes before, Raoul and Christine found chaos. A milling group of ballet rats was chattering quietly in a corner, gasping, pointing, and staring wide-eyed at every "shocking" detail of the Phantom's home. Other than the useless girls, every other soul in the vast cavern was bent on destruction. The Phantom's lair had been destroyed. The massive bed had been turned on its side, the red silk sheets torn and strewn over the ground. Every full-length mirror had been shattered, every candelabra had been thrown to the ground, every piece of the infamous man's work, from sketches to compositions to models of architecture was burning. Police were scouting the area, attempting to restrain the crazed mob and restore order while searching for any clue as to the Phantom's whereabouts.

"Pardon, Monsieur," Christine said, grabbing one by the arm. "Has Er-... the Phantom been captured?" she asked fearfully, holding her breath. For the second time that night, her fear was misinterpreted.

"Don't worry, Mademoiselle," he said kindly, "we'll find him yet. He cannot hide forever, with half of Paris searching for him." Christine turned away quickly to hide her smirk at the thought of Erik not being able to remain hidden, and quickly returned to Raoul's side.

"I have to find him, Raoul. Before anyone else does. I can't bear the thought of him living with the pain my rejection has caused."

"But you can live with the thought of the pain it has caused me?"

"Oh, Raoul, please..." she said softly, her eyes filling with tears. "Don't do this to me..."

"I'm sorry, Christine," he said sincerely. "I do not wish to cause you pain. But... Erik. You cannot find him when he does not wish to be found, and I am certain he does not wish to see either of us right now. I think, he will stay around Paris, as it is the only home he has ever known. And Madame Giry will remain here, and she is his only ally, as far as he knows. I would give him a few weeks to recover from this night before you try to confront him. Come stay with me until then."

"What? I couldn't stay with you... It would not be decent..."

"Do you think that Paris believes that our relationship is decent? You know the rumors as well as I do. Besides, you have lost your home and your career. There is nothing for you here. Come stay with me until you find him."

_All I want is freedom, a world with no more night..._ Christine thought. It had only been days ago that she had said that, to Raoul. He was offering that life to her now. How she had changed since then! She could sense that her acceptance would mean something more to him- that she had given up on Erik? The soprano sighed in resignation. "All right. But Raoul, it can only be until I find him. I... don't think I could ever go back now, after loving him." She placed her palm on Raoul's cheek. "You've always been so good to me. You've cared for me like a brother, and I don't know how I'll ever repay your kindness."

She saw his eyes shine with something that looked alarmingly like triumph when she accepted his invitation. She ignored it, and allowed herself to be led back to the boat. Raoul once again boarded behind her, and they rowed steadily across the lake, for the third time that evening.

"Christine, when we first arrive at the chateaux de Chagny, you'll have to excuse our lack of hospitality for a young woman. We don't often even have guests, much less ladies. It may take a while to arrange suitable long-term quarters for you."

"I understand, Raoul. I used to live in a cottage by the sea with my father, remember? I'm sure any accommodations you have will be much more comfortable than a tiny mattress beneath a window looking into the ocean!" She smiled hesitantly at him, and he grinned back. They continued in silence for a long while.

_Oh, God,_ Christine thought, _what have I gotten myself into? He won't give up on courting me! Especially not when the reason I won't marry him is his hated enemy! What am I to do? Erik, where have you gone? I'm sorry, so sorry... Please, forgive me, Angel! I can't make it through this without you. Please be safe..._ She began to weep silently, refusing to look at Raoul, staring at her hands until the tears stopped.

They reached the opposite shore of the lake, and Christine cried out in surprise to see Madame Giry standing in front of the boat. She rushed over to hug her stern instructor, and asked, "Madame, where is Meg?"

"I'm here, Christine," the little blond ballerina said, stepping out of the shadows, looking tired but defiant. She glanced shyly at Raoul, who didn't notice her look, and hugged Christine fiercely, taking her by the hands. "Oh, it's so terrible! The entire Opera House is burning! There's no possible chance of saving it, and the Phantom is nowhere to be found! But I'm so glad you're not hurt! What happened down there? I was so worried when he took you..."

"Later, Meg. I have a fantastic story to tell you, but it will have to wait. Madame Giry?" she asked, turning to her tutor who was talking quietly with Raoul.

"Yes, Christine?"

"Would it be possible for me to stay with you for a few days until the Vicomte can arrange lodging for me at his home? I would not be imposing myself, would I?"

"Certainly not. We have you to stay at our house often enough. You are like a daughter to me, Christine, and you are welcomed anytime. You know that."

"Raoul, you don't mind if I stay with Meg for a few days, do you? I would so love to have her company until I can come to your chateaux."

"No, I don't mind, Christine. Even if I did, there would be no stopping you," he said sagely. Christine hugged him, then Madame Giry, then finally Meg. She took Meg's hand and began moving down another corridor, one of the back passages that would lead them safely away from the burning Opera Populaire and into the bustling streets of Paris above.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, here we go again. This chapter is a retelling of the Erik-Christine tale in the movie, but from Christine's pov. It shows what she was thinking and why she did what she did. I don't know, it just shows her logic. I own none of the characters, etc. Enjoy!

The Soprano's Tale

Later that night, a dark figure moved through the halls of the Giry home. Fabric swirled around a mysterious shape that padded silently down the corridors, then turned into a doorway. A match was struck, and a candle was lighted. It moved closer toward the bed, illuminating the figure of a sleeping girl. A hand reached out and took the girl by the shoulder, shaking her awake. The girl's eyes fluttered open, and she drew a short, sharp breath to scream, but a familiar hand covered her mouth.

"Meg, it's me," Christine hissed as she sat down on Meg's bed. "Why is it so warm in here?" she whispered as she removed her cloak.

"My God, Christine, you scared me! Oh, I hate sleeping in the cold, so I keep a fire going during the night. Seems to have gone out tonight, though," she frowned. "The embers aren't even glowing anymore... Anyway, what are you doing here? What time is it?"

"About two. Now-"

"In the _morning_?" Meg gasped.

"Of course, in the morning. Meg, I need to talk to you. It's important."

"Is it why you asked to stay with us for a few days instead of going with Raoul?"

"Yes. It's about the Phantom... and the man I love."

"What does the Phantom have to do with Raoul?"

"Not Raoul," Christine said as Meg quirked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "I thought I loved him, but I...met another man. I lost him during the fire and now I'm staying with Raoul until I can find him."

"Well, who is it?" Meg demanded.

"I'll tell you, I promise. But not yet. First, I need to tell you about the Phantom... and how I'm connected to him.†It started a long time ago. When I first came to the Opera House, really. Before I had even met you. I had gone down to my father's memorial, to light a candle for him as I did every evening. I had recently heard a haunting melody from one of the plays being rehearsed, I don't even remember which one now. But I was singing, quietly, for my father. Suddenly, a voice seemed to drift out of the darkness, lulling me almost into a trance. It spoke to my very soul, and I had to know who it was. It was a man's voice, deep and rich. I recognized its power even though I was so young... He said he was the Angel of Music..." A voice played in her head, low and seductive: _I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music._ "...sent to me by my father. I was told to meet back there, with him, every evening after rehearsals, and he would train me to use my voice. I was entranced, and of course I returned.

"Every night for the next nine years, he came to me, and he taught me to sing. Not merely to let the proper notes slide through my throat, but to feel the music well from the soul, releasing it in pure joy, or anger, or sorrow. He taught me, not to feel the notes that I sang, but to become part of them, to immerse myself in them and share their beauty. I learned that music, true music, is never dead- it lives, it has a spirit of its own, that comes alive and dances within me as I sing. With him, my lessons did not involve putting wisdom inside my head, but rather lifting back the veil over the soul and glimpsing within. With him, every moment was... magic. I felt myself falling in love with this voice that had consumed me, and I cursed myself for a fool. Even if he had been a mortal man, which I did not believe he was, how could so perfect a creature love me? So, I told myself I did not love him, would never have him, and, though love forever burned in my heart, attempted to continue with the lessons I had come to depend upon for release from this bleak world.

"That is, until a few months ago. After Carlotta resigned, and I took her role as lead soprano, I moved into her old quarters- Do you remember, the room with the full-length mirror? The first night I slept there, he came to me..." Her own voice echoed across time: _In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. "_Not as the Angel of Music, but as the Phantom of the Opera. To me, they became one and the same. He took me by the hand and led me, trembling with awe, through the mirror, the portal to his lairs deep below. We passed through dark tunnels and traveled across the vast lake, and came to his home. It was beautiful, Meg. I'll never be able to describe it, but it touched something deep with me. I knew I was losing myself to him... And I didn't care. How can I tell you how it feels to be around him, what that intoxication feels like? I knew I never wished to be parted from him again. But I was stupid. My curiosity overcame all else, and I tricked him and removed his mask. What I saw..." She shuddered slightly, recalling the horror of that first glimpse. "I will not tell you. But he was horrified, and explosively angry." She heard his voice, wincing inwardly at the wrath she had incurred: _Curse you! You little prying Pandora! You little viper! Now you cannot ever be free! "..._I feared for my life. So, I fled, and returned to the world above.

"I tried to move on. Raoul came here and I threw myself into his embrace, hoping to comfort myself over the love I had lost. I convinced myself I loved him, and I still do, a little, but I lost my heart that night with Erik... I saw my Angel again at the cemetery, once, when I went to visit my father's grave. I was still so confused... I went to him, but Raoul found us and interceded. Erik and Raoul fought, and I ended up leaving with Raoul. After all the violence I had seen in Erik, I was truly frightened of him. And the longer I was away, the more I forgot how much I loved him. then, during the performance of Don Juan Triumphant, when he sang with me in the Point of No Return, I fell in love all over again. I knew if he stayed with me, on stage, he would be killed. So, I did the only thing I knew how, to save his life... I removed his mask. I never expected he would cause such damage... But I could not allow him to die. So he took me down to his lair again, and I was surprised as how viscous, how cruel he acted toward me. So, I was spiteful, resentful that he didn't understand that I had saved his life. I pretended to hate him still, angered that he could not see otherwise. Then Raoul arrived, to save me, and was captured by Erik. He threatened to hang Raoul if I did not agree to marry. My choice was to either save the man Erik believed I loved and marry the terrible Phantom, or go free and let Raoul die.

"So I kissed him. I let him believe that I made the agonizing decision to give up my life, and I kissed him. I have never been... happier than in those few seconds. I pulled away, and he kissed _me._ Then, he sent me away. I was horrified, but he was so adamant that I did leave. I was so confused, Meg. By the time I finally realized what I wanted, to be with Erik, I had already left with Raoul. I told him how I felt, and he eventually gave in to my will. So we went back. But by the time we got there, he was gone. I didn't know what to do. So, I agreed to say with Raoul until I can find Erik. If I don't find him, Meg... There will be no reason for me to live. I love him so." She began to weep softly, cradling her head in her hands. Meg soothed her and held her until she had regained her composure.

"Christine, we'll find him. I never knew how strongly you felt for him. I'm so sorry that you've lost him. But I promise you I'll help you get him back."

"Thank you, Meg." Christine hugged her best friend of ten years. "I don't know how I would ever get along without you."

"You wouldn't," she grinned. "Now, get to bed. It's very late. Or is it very early? Either way, I'm not bearable in the mornings without sleep. And you've had a very trying day." She hugged her again, picked up her candle, which had burned down almost to the wick, and pushed her out the door.

Christine wandered back to her room, her thoughts still circling, but finally feeling tired. She removed her cloak and lie in bed for a few minutes, and finally fell into a deep, but troubled, sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, this chapter's a little short, sorry. My life is really hectic right now, you should all be happy I've written at all. I woke up this morning and said, "Hey, Self? I should write another chapter for my poor readers." So, I did. I still have very little inspiration, but I'm not willing to give up on a story. Therefore, the tale will just crawl painfully along until I can gather momentum. So, any good ideas would come in handy. I own none of the characters, just read and review, ya? Have a great day!

An Unexpected Attraction

When Meg first awoke the next morning, she dressed and went quickly to Christine's room. When she walked in, however, she was surprised to find that the soprano was not there. "Christine!" she called, searching the familiar halls of her home. "Where are you? Don't play games with me. I know you're here! Stop trying to scare-" She screamed suddenly as a pair of small, pale hands grasped her shoulders. She whirled around angrily, blond hair flying. "Don't ever do that to me!" she admonished as Christine giggled.

"Sorry, Meg," she laughed. "I couldn't help it. You seemed so serious!"

"As well I should be, after our discussion... this morning. You've got me shaken with all this talk of phantoms and disappearing loves." Christine stiffened visibly, and her expression sobered. She turned away from her friend and began to walk stiffly down the hall.

"Christine, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, please..."

"Come," Christine said stiffly. "We should see to breakfast."

Meg ran to catch up, then hesitantly slipped her hand into her best friend's, and the two walked silently down the corridors until they reached the bustling kitchen. A cook and three maids ran frantically around the room, putting kettles over the fire, frying eggs, buttering freshly-made scones, and creating an overall air of chaos.

"Why does it seem as though they are cooking for more than three women?" Christine commented.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Raoul insisted that if you were going to stay with us for a while, he would visit every morning. So, we have he kitchen staff on notice that we will be hosting two more people every day."

"Two?" Christine raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"The Vicomte always takes his advisor with him. As far as anyone can tell, the two are very good friends. I've never met Monsieur Bordeaux personally, but I hear he has a pleasant personality and an impeccable reputation." She smiled broadly, and Christine saw the wistful look in her eyes.

"Ah. I see. You hope he will wish to court you," she teased. "Well, I think you two should be very happy together, seeing as you've never met before and you're bound to have nothing in common!" she giggled.

Meg slapped her playfully on the shoulder, blushing crimson. "Well, I do wish to be courted by someone present today, but it's not Rafael." she looked down shyly.

"But, Meg, you said the only other man coming was- Oh." She began laughing in earnest. "Raoul? The Vicomte?" She laughed harder, holding her ribs as she attempted to regain normal breathing patterns. She finally stopped and brushed a few stray tears from her eyes, looking into Meg's crestfallen gaze. "No, no, I didn't mean anything by it. You and Raoul would make a handsome pair. Why, think of all the blond children! No, I was laughing because all this time I held him away from you while, in truth, I loved another man. Through my stupidity, I denied us both happiness. I'm truly sorry, Meg. Please, know that you have my blessing. I hardly think he will be so willing to give me up, though. I'll speak to him for you."

"No!" Meg said urgently. "You must not. I do not want your memory to have any part in his decisions. If he loves me, I want him to love me, not he remnants of you he sees inside of me. Please. If this is meant to be, it will fall out on its own. I beg you, Christine, do not interfere."

"I understand. I will, however, impress upon him how determined I am to find Erik, and that I will never return to Raoul. That should at least give you a chance."

"Thank you, Christine," Meg whispered as she hugged her friend. "I don't know how I'd get along without you."

"You wouldn't," Christine grinned, grasping Meg's hand again. "Now, I'm starved, I haven't eaten since early yesterday. Let's get to breakfast." She pulled the slightly smaller girl through the kitchens and into the adjoining dining hall, grabbing a scone on her way through. "Thank you!" she called to the maids as she went, and the two girls sat at the table, awaiting impatiently for the arrival of their company and the interest it would bring.


	5. Chapter 5

I am so very very very sorry that this chapter has taken so long! I've had an incredibly hectic summer, between band practice, summer jobs, English homework, horse training, family vacations and friends' parties, I've hardly been home to _sleep_, let alone write. I even considered, for the first time, giving up and dropping the story! But then I decided not to. I hate authors who do that. So, here, after almost a month, is the next chapter. The next one may take a while, too, but I'm trying. When school is back in session, things should settle down again for me to write reliably again. Again, I am so sorry. Thanks to all of you who've remained faithful. I love you guys! I obviously don't own any Phantom characters, so don't sue me, please. That's all. I hope you like it!

Secrets Revealed

The two girls chatted merrily for the first ten minutes, hiding their impatience with small talk.

"Really, Meg, how long have you... had feelings for the Vicomte?" Christine asked when the conversation began to lull. Meg grew wide-eyed and placed a finger on her lips, obviously wanting to kill Christine for speaking aloud, looking fearfully over the amused girl's right shoulder. Suddenly Christine stiffened as she felt a light hand on her arm, and her own eyes grew with shock as a familiar voice chuckled.

"Feelings? For me?" Raoul laughed. "Yes, Meg, how long have you harbored secret dreams of smoldering passion about me?" he teased good-naturdly. Meg paled, then quickly stood and fled out of the room. Christine rose to follow her, but Raoul placed his hand on her arm again. She turned to tell him off, but found real concern glinting from his dazzling blue eyes. She sighed, gave him a gesture that meant "I'll tell you later," and walked over to the other man standing tense and alert in the doorway, absentmindedly wringing his hat in his hands. She dropped her head respectfully. "Monsieur Bordeaux, I presume?" He nodded gently, looking her in the eye and relieving all tension between them. "I'm very sorry about that show of inhospitality. Mademoiselle Giry has not been feeling well recently, and she warned me that she may have to leave at some point during the course of your stay. I do hope you are not offended by the lack of hostess. Madame Giry should be down momentarily."

His voice was surprisingly deep and rich, light-hearted and full of hidden laughter."I am not offended in the least, Mademoiselle..."

"Daae," Christine supplied hastily, surprised at how flustered she had become in his presence. She wondered briefly if, ironically, she were the one becoming ill. He picked up and kissed her hand gently, lips lingering, and Christine felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She shook her head gently and laughed out loud, cursing herself for a fool. If she couldn't control herself when one handsome man paid her attention, how could she convince Erik to trust her again? _I remember, there was mist... swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake. There were candles all around, and on the lake there was a boat. And in the boat there was a man..._ Her first visit to Erik's lair played in her mind as though it had been yesterday, and she shivered softly at his remembered touch, his voice, his presence. How could she think she would ever turn to another man? Her resolve strengthened, the blush faded, and she stood rigidly as she spoke to the men.

"I'm sure you're both hungry. I am famished, and I do hope you'll join me for breakfast. As it is already prepared, I see no reason that it should sit out and grow cold. Madame Giry will not mind." She turned and led them into the dining room, where Raoul's advisor promptly pulled out her chair, gesturing for her to be seated.

'How kind, Monsieur Bordeaux. Thank you," she said as she gathered her skirts and sat in the proffered position.

"You're welcome," she grinned lazily at her. "And please, call me Rafe."

"Oh, that's far to informal, I'm sure, Monsieur. We've only just been introduced!"

"Really, Rafael," Raoul commented sarcastically from the other side of the table, voice tense. Christine glanced at him and almost laughed at the smoldering jealousy she saw in his features. She wondered if she'd ever get the silly puppy to give up on her.

"Well, then, you may call me Rafael, my full name," he said to her gently, never losing the hint of amusement in his amber eyes. She sighed in defeat, which Rafael took as a sign to take his seat next to her. Raoul quickly took up temporary residence on her other side. Christine guessed, correctly, that this would be the most interesting breakfast she'd had in ages, as both men bantered, seemingly friendly and cordial, on either side of her. Madame Giry walked in after a few minutes, followed by the maids with their meal. Neither of the men seemed to notice, but Christine couldn't help but observe the glares that Madame Giry was giving Raoul, so she assumed she had gone to speak with Meg.

"I apologize for my tardiness, gentlemen," she said, as if reading Christine's thoughts. "I had to attend to my daughter. She has taken to bed, and I am afraid she will not be joining us this morning." Everyone murmured vague condolences and acceptances of the apology, but intent was obviously upon the dishes being placed before them. "Please, let me hinder you no longer. Let us enjoy what is left of this morning." The covers were lifted from the plates, and the meal was enjoyed in quiet introspect. When they had all finished, however, the conversation started again at once, and it revolved around Christine's moving into Raoul's estates.

"Christine, I should have your quarters ready for you in less than two days. Will you be ready by then?" Raoul asked hopefully. She shot a sidelong glance at the slightly scowling Madame Giry, then looked back at Raoul's eager face. For the first time, she realized she didn't love him. She had been infatuated with him when they were children, but he had been the only male of her relative age she had ever been introduced to before joining the opera house. Then, when Erik had pushed her away, she had sought to console herself with the only man she knew. Now, she was using him yet again, as a guardian when she had lost everything she had ever cared for except her adopted family. For the first time, she realized that he was no true man, not the protector and lover she had found in Erik; he was exactly what everyone around her saw him as- a foolish fop. She smiled at this thought, at her dear, oblivious- well, what was he to her, exactly? Friend? Not intimate enough. Lover? Absolutely not. Brother? No, still wrong. He was simply... her fop. She glanced at him, then sighed resignedly.

'Well, I would like a few more days than that to spend here, with my family. Yes, my family," she repeated as she saw the confusion in everyone's faces. "Madame Giry has always been a mother to me, and Meg is the closest sister anyone could ever ask for. I can't just use them and leave. I wish to stay here for a full week. Then I promise I will come to you, Raoul." She smiled again at the effect the use of the word "to" instead of "with" in that promise, as he gazed at her with ill-contained desire. She patted his hand gently, smiled demurely at him, then turned to speak with Rafael.

Pleasant conversation continued for almost two hours, until Christine rose suddenly and addressed the small party. "Please excuse me, Messieurs, Madame Giry. I am weary after a restless night and I would like to check upon Meg. I am sure my company will not be missed, and I need to sleep for at least a few more hours."

She performed a small curtsey, then looked at Raoul pointedly for a second, making the same gesture as she had before, then nodding toward the parlor. She walked out and waited for a moment before Raoul appeared in the doorway. She pulled him aside and shut the door behind him, setting him down next to her on the couch.

"What's this about?' Raoul asked suspiciously. "Why did Meg act that way earlier? Did I say something to offend her?" He took Christine's hands in his own, and she gently pulled them away.

"Raoul," she sighed deeply. "Meg asked me not to tell you outright, but... I don't think I have a choice now. She truly does care for you. She's adored you for a long time, apparently. For as long as we were together, I think. Probably longer. I... I really wish you would give her a chance. No-" she interrupted his thought as he opened his mouth to speak, obviously about to protest in the name of their former relationship, "-this has nothing to do with you and me. That is all we are now, you and me. There is no 'we' anymore. Raoul, you will always be one of the most important men in my life, but you have to move on. I will accept your support, as a friend, but I love Erik with all that I am. I am not going to return to you. Do you understand?"

He nodded reluctantly, the slightest hint of tears lacing his eyes. "It's just... I've loved you for so long, Christine. You are the only woman who's ever effected me, and losing you..."

"You're not losing me," she said gently, taking his hands. "You'll never lose me."

He nodded again. "It's just... You are the only one I've ever loved. I have no idea _how_ to move on."

She kissed his cheek. "You'll figure it out," she said, standing up. "Meg is the kindest woman I know, and she loves you. Plus, she may be even prettier than you." He laughed gently, and hung his head in mock shame. She grinned at him. "Give her a chance. Promise?"

"Promise," he whispered. They left the room and headed separate directions, he to rejoin his companion and head homeward and she to the upstairs rooms, seeking to comfort her disparaged friend.


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, sooooo sory it's taken me so long to update! School's finally back in session and I have time to write again, at last! Hopefully updates will come a lot more often now. Again, I apologize so profusely for the delay, I don't own any characters, etc., I hope you forgive me! Read on!

Things Change

The next few weeks flew by, too quickly for Christine's taste. There was much to do, both at the Giry house and at Raoul's residence in preparation for Christine's move. Christine found herself looking forward to and dreading the move at the same time. She knew that she would be treated well at the de Chagny manor, but found it hard to believe that the situation would not be awkward with her recent confession that she did not love Raoul. On the other hand, she also knew that her proximity to Raoul would help Meg's pursuit of him. The night before she was to leave, she stayed up late talking to Meg again about the change about to come over their lives.

"Meg, I expect you to come visit me as often as possible. I don't know what I'll do there, without you and your mother. I will be living in a house with Raoul and his brother and Raoul's widowed mother. Not the most enthraling of companies, I can imagine." She frowned mockingly, and Meg giggled at Christine's false dirision.

"Oh, Christine, I will. I'm going to miss you so much," she said, giving her a quick, fierce hug. Christine looked at her sternly, and she laughed again. "Well, of course I'll see you all the time, but it won't be the same as you living here. Besides, when I'm with you there, I'm sure my mind will be... otherwise occupied," she said dreamily. It was Christine's turn to burst out laughing.

"It's not that funny!" Meg protested, as Christine laughed harder. "I can't help it," she said sheepishly.

"I know," Christine said after a moment of calming down. "I used to feel the same way. But I'll never know," she said seriously, "how I could ever fall for such an utter fop."

Meg's eyes grew wide. "Christine!" she squealed in outrage. "He's the Vicomte! You cannot say such things!" Christine couldn't hold out any longer, and she laughed harder than even before a her friend's shocked expression.

"Sorry, Meg, but he really is a fop. I think he takes better care of his hair than even I. It doesn't mean I care for him any less."

"I suppose you're right. He probably spends more time getting his outfits ready than you did before an opera!" Christine grew suddenly somber, remembering the joy, the thrill of preparing herself for her first debut onstage, and the overhelming love she had felt for the man who had brought her to that point. A man whom she might never see again. _You alone can make my song take flight..._ She shook her head gently as tears gathered in her eyes, remembering those words.

"Oh, Christine," Meg breathed. "I'm so sorry. Here I go again, complaining about how hard it is to capture the man I am infatuated with while you've lost your lover. Will I ever learn to mind my own tongue?"

"Not likely," Christine said miserably, then smiled tentatively when Meg's eyes opened wide again. "It's okay, really. I know I'll find him again. It's just... I can't bear being away from him for so long. It's like part of me is missing, and I can't find it again until I touch him, hold him, hear his voice..." She trailed off, looking lost.

Meg leaned over and hugged her again, comfortingly, and Christine returned the embrace. "It'll all be okay, you'll see. You'll find him again. It might not be soon, and I hardly expect that it will be a happy reunion at first, but you'll find him. True love is not so easily set aside." Christine sighed deeply, and watched as Meg stood up and grabbed a dress that had been hanging over the back of chair in the disaster that was Christine's attempt a packing. "What is this," she sighed indignantly. "This is horrid. I don't think I've ever seen a more miserable piece of clothing in my _life_. Please tell me you're burning this, not taking it with you."

"Actually, I was wondering if you wanted it. When I saw it, it reminded me of you immediately. I figured it was exactly to your taste."

Meg shouted and threw it at her, and Christine threw it back. "Packing" as such ensued over the next few hours, until it grew late and both women decided to attempt to catch some sleep in preparation for the trying day ahead. They both stared at the ceiling all night, watching their thoughts chase each other through their heads.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, it's taken me a long time to update again. But I now know (vaguely) where I'm going with this! So it'll be better, and more frequent, from now on (I hope). I own none of the characters except Rafe, obviously, thought I wish I had Gerry. Or even Howard McGillin would do. Alas, this is not a perfect world. Else I would have both and chocolate drops would rain from the heavens...

Something New

The transition from the Giry house to the de Chagny manor ran smoothly, with the usual bouts of crying on the parts of the women involved, servants rushing busily to load and unload Christine's posessions, and Raoul pacing about excitedly, barking unnecessary orders at everyone but Chrisine herself.

"Raoul," she snapped at last, as a particularly frazzled maid rushed by, "you're not helping _anyone._ In fact, you're being an annoying prat. They know what they're doing, alright? Leave them be. Come, show me around the grounds. I have quite forgotten them, I'm afraid. I haven't visited in ages." She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the scene of chaos.

Raoul ditifully led her through a tour of the expansive grounds. The chateau was nestled on a hilltop bordered on one side by a large pond and by what appeared to be a forrest on the other.

"Why is there a forrest here, on the edge of Paris, conveniently located on your back lawn?" she asked suddenly after she was unable to decipher this on her own.

"My great-great grandfather was keen on old-fashion traditions. He especially loved the classic fox hunts. When he found that there was nowhere to hunt nearby, he had his own forrest planted right here, on our grounds. It's about fifty acres of trees, populated by the descendants of the deer, foxes, and rabbits he released so long ago. I rather like to ride there sometimes, though I don't hunt, personally."

"Do you keep a stable?" Christine asked excitedly.

"Yes, of course." He looked at her quizically. "Why? Do you like to ride?"

"More than anything. Except music. My father taught me when I was very young, when we lived in the country. Our neighbors had horses, and they let me ride occasionally. I haven't been for years."

"Do you want to?" he asked.

"Now?" she gasped.

"Of course," he replied. "Do you have any other plans?"

"No, but-"

"No 'buts,' Mademoiselle Daae. I am going to give you a horse, and we are going to ride, and that is final. Don't try to contradict me. It's so tiresome, having to put you in your place."

"Yes, Monsuier le Vicomte," she said in mock submission, bowing her head. "I would not dare defy your orders." She grinned suddenly, turned, picked up her skirts, and ran toward the large building she had seen earlier. "Well?" she cried when she stopped and looked back into his shokced face. "Aren't you coming?"

He turned red suddenly and shook his blond curls. "You...ahem...you really shouldn't do that, Christine. It's not decent, in a man's presence. If I weren't so self-disciplined..."

"Oh, do lighten up, Raoul. As though you didn't see me pactically clothesless on the beach when we were young."

"That's just it, though. We were young. I had no idea what I had then. That was before I...felt like this about you, Christine. I know, I know, you want me to give up on you," he interrupted, correctly interpreting the look on her face. "I'm trying, but you don't forget the love of an entire lifetime intantly because she says so."

"Don't fret. I'll bring Meg to visit me, and you'll forget you ever loved me, I promise. I'm sorry, Raoul. Don't you think I wished this worjked out differently? Don't you think that, if I'd been able to steer my heart, I would have chosen the safe, dependable man who I know could provide me with a happy future? I can't, Raoul, it doesn't work like that. I loved you as much as I knew how until Erik came into my life! It was so much easier to love you. You were always there, always waiting, always caring for me... Perhaps, if I'd tried harder, there would have been any room for his persuasion. But I can't take back my heart, and I can't change what happened! God, why is this all so unfair? Why couldn't I have had the easy path?" she screamed to the heavens, tears coursing freely down her cheeks. She fell to her knees and covered her face with her hands, sobbing. Raoul ran the remaining steps to her, knealt beside her, and cradled her head in his arms.

"Shh, shh," he whispered, softly trailing his fingers down her arms as she clung to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Come, no riding today, I think. We'll get you to bed. It's been a trying day." He picked her up easily and carried her gently to the manor.

Raoul walked through the door to find Rafael sitting in his entryway.

"Rafe," he said, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard the mademoiselle was moving in today, so I came to offer greetings," he siad in his easy drawl, his normally light voice grave. "It seems, however, that this is not so joyous an affair as I had imagined. Is she alright?"

"She will be," Raoul said quietly, looking down on her closed eyes, as the girl was now peacefully asleep. "It was a long day, and the stress got to her, I think."

"I'm sure with rest, she'll be fine," Rafe said, then hesitated. "Do you mind if I stay with her for a while?" he asked softly, almost in a whisper, looking at the hat held in his hands, his dark tresses falling gently over his somber eyes.

Raoul glared at him suspiciously, then remembered that Christine was no longer his to defend, much as he loathed the fact. "Fine," he said tiredly. 'Help me get her to her room, and promise not to wake her, and I'll let you stay." He turned and headed to the nearest staircase. Rafe followed, and helped Raoul carry the girl to her new bed, laying her down gently on the white silk shees.

Two pairs of eyes met, then Raoul turned and walked out the door poinedly, leaving Rafael and Christine alone. Rafe pulled a chair over to the bedside and sat gently, careful not to wake her.

_Ah, God, so beautiful_, he thought, watching her sleep peacefully. She shifted and sighed softly, parting her perfeclty sculped lips. Rafe, unable to control his desire any longer, leaned down and kissed her, gently, so gently, dark hair brushing softly over her face. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing against his lips, responding without fully waking. He kissed her back, harder, and her eyes fluttered open.


	8. Chapter 8

I am soooo sorry it's taken me so long to get this up. I have no excuses. I dropped the story, lost interest, jhad the worst writer's block ever. No excuses. I hate myself for disappointing you. If any of you are still even interested, I think I'll wrap this story up shortly. Again, I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. Ambles off ashamed

An... Unpleasant Suprise

"Erik..." she whispered, too softly for him to hear, his mouth still capturing hers. Suddenly, she opened her eyes wide, gasped, and pushed Rafe away from her. "What are you doing, Monsieur?" she said quietly, ice dripping from her words like venom.

"I beg your pardon most humbly, Mademoiselle," he said, avoiding her eyes as red flooded his face. "I do not know... how I could act so dishonorably. I could not help it, please, I beg of you, Christine..." he trailed off miserably, looking up at her at last. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, rising from his chair. "I must go." He strode to the doorway quicker than Christine could react. She leapt from the bed and ran after him, catching him halfway down the hall.

"Wait!" she demanded. "Don't you think I deserve an explanation, after that? Were you planning on using me, like some... some _whore_ while I slept? Do you often take advantage of women like that, _Monsieur_?"

"No, no, of course not," he said hurriedly, his deep voice filled with remorse. "I don't know what came over me. I haven't even kissed a woman, before you, for over three years, since my wife died delivering our first child. I am truly sorry, Mademoiselle. I shall leave now."

"No, stay. I... forgive you. Truly, I do. I... know how it feels to be unable to control oneself around another person. I was frightened of you, and therefore... hasty. Please, stay," she said, placing a hand on his arm, guiding him gently back to her room. He sighed and allowed himself to be led. She directed him back to her bed, setting him down and placing herself next to him. He still refused to meet her gaze, and she watched him for a long time before she drew a hesitant breath to speak. "I'm so sorry... about your loss. Your wife, and child, I mean."

Rafe finally looked at her, and Christine couldn't help but notice that he had tears lining his strikingly green eyes. "Emily," he whispered. "My daughter was to be named Emily. It's carved into the headstone she shares with my wife." His eyes dropped again as a single tear fell. Christine touched it heasitantly, and laid a hand on his.

"I, too, have lost someone I love, but he is still alive." Suddenly, his voice came back to her again, after having remained silent for so long: _Say you need me with you now and always. Any where you go, let me go too... _Oh, God, how she needed him now! "I could not imagine having to live, having to wake up to face each bleak morning knowing that he does not still walk the same world as I. I am truly sorry. If there's anything I can do for you..." He looked at her again, his gaze stronger now, the hunger returned. He leaned toward her, warm breath trailing lazily along her cheek. Her lips parted and her eyes fluttered closed as he moved closer, lips brushing hers. "No," she breathed, gently placing a hand on his mouth. "What is it?" he asked, puzzled.

"I do regret that you lost the woman you love. I can promise you, I know how you feel. But the man I love is still alive, and I cannot forget him simply because you've shown up and taken my breath away. I am attracted to you, Rafe... you call to a part of me that I have long hidden away, a part I've hardly dared to explore, but... I have lost myself already, heart and soul, to Erik. Please understand," she begged, her own eyes filling with tears as she was forded to deny him.

He leaned back slowly, laying flat on the bed with his hands tucked beneath his neck. "I do," he said softly. If Kara were still alive, I could not abandon her for anyone on Earth, no matter how much another woman stirred my blood. I understand, truly. Please don't cry, little one," he said, sitting up and putting his arms around her. She leaned into him, glad for the comfort and patience he offered. "I hope we can still be friends, Christine. I've grown rather fond of you." He smiled crookedly, dark hair falling over his deep eyes. Christine could not help but laugh at his boyish sincerity.

"Of course we can be friends. I would hate to lose you, Rafe. We've only known each other for a few weeks, but I feel as though I am safe with you. I trust you," she said boldly. He chuckled, then bent down to steal a quick, friendly kiss. "Perhaps you shouldn't," he laughed as she pushed him gently away. "Come," she said suddenly, standing and pulling him out the door. "It's still early, and I believe Raoul promised me some horses." The laughing pair walked out, arm in arm, into the sunny afternoon.


	9. Chapter 9

Okay, here's another chappy. I don't own any characters (except maybe Rafe. Does he count?), and I hope to reintroduce Erik shortly. Right about the same time I end the story. Only a few chapters left, hopefully. Thanks again for hanging in there and dealing with my thrice-cursed laziness. Happy reading, guys!

Unexpected Fire

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, Raoul and Rafe challenging each other's skills on horseback, as young men are wont to do, with Raoul usually coming out the victor. He had, after all, grown up on an estate run from horseback, and Rafe had been raised in the city. Christine rode quietly on her placid little horse, Donatella, an old Arabian mare. After a few hours, as the sun was beginning to set, Meg showed up again, much to Christine's delight.

"Meg, what are you doing here? You only left me here this morning! Did you miss me already?" Christine asked as she hugged her dearest friend in the stables as a gelding, Napoleon, was being tacked up for Meg.

"Of course I did! I came to see if Raoul would allow me to spend a few days here with you until you settled in. If that's all right with you, I mean."

"All right? More than all right, it's brilliant! I would love for you to stay with me, and I'm sure Raoul won't mind. There's an empty bedroom right next to mine. I'll see if I can get it set up while we're riding. Jaques!" A stable boy appeared in a stall doorway, pitchfork in hand.

"Yes, Mistress?" he asked shyly.

"Oh, don't call me that! It makes me seem so old. It's Christine, please. I'm no better than you are, so there's no need for titles. Anyway, do you know who I can talk to to get a room set up for Mademoiselle Giry?"

"I'll take care of it, Mistress."

"Jaques!"

"I'm sorry, I just can't get used to calling you by your name."

"Well, 'Miss' at the very least, please. Or 'Daae'. Or even, 'Hey you with the curls'. Just none of this 'mistress' business. I am not the mistress of this manor, nor do I ever intend to be..." She shook her head and smiled at Meg, then addressed Jaques again. "Thank you for seeing to the room. I am in your debt."

"Are not," the boy mumbled as he bowed and turned away. "I heard that!" Christine called after him, giggling and taking Meg outside. They mounted their horses and set off to rejoin the men.

"Meg, how pleasant to see you... again!" Raoul exclaimed at they rode into sight.

"Raoul, can she stay here with me for a few days? I would be glad of the company until I can get used to this grand place. It would be nice to have her around to help me adjust."

"Of course! You are always welcome here, Meg. Don't wait for an invitation; my home is always open to you. I'll send for someone to prepare the empty bedroom next to yours, Christine."

"I already did," Christine quipped. "I guessed that you would hold no qualms with Meg's appearance."

"Of course you did," Raoul said, amused. "Well, what are we waiting for? It's still a good hour until it gets too dark to see anymore. Let's go!" He spurred his horse forward and the four galloped across the estate, laughing and cajoling each other. After a while their exuberance calmed into merry companionship, and as it got dark they decided to start a fire under the clear, starry sky.

"Would anyone care for a cigar?" Raoul asked, pulling a pack out of his pocket and striking a match. Rafe took one, but the girls laughed off the offer.

"Vicomte, it's scandalous for a lady to be caught smoking a cigar!" Meg giggled. Raoul lifted an eyebrow at the petite blond sitting next to him on a log.

"Since when have you called me Vicomte? And since when are you a lady, little Meg?" he grinned at her kindly, obviously teasing, and Meg blushed and lowered her eyes. "Ah, shy, are we? Hmm, well, we'll have to make you a little more bold." He leaned in and began to whisper to her, eyes growing wider and blush deepening until even Christine began to feel uncomfortable in their presence. She knew that the girl was safe, however; she could never doubt Raoul's sense of propriety, and if his whisperings got too edgy, Meg would graciously deter him. Christine stood abruptly, seeing Rafe's own uncomfortable gaze through the flames, caught his eye, and said loudly, "I think we're running out of wood. Rafe, will you come with me to gather more?" He stood and grinned at her in relief, taking her arm and leading her into the dark woods. As they left, Raoul's voice got louder until they just barely couldn't make out his words. Christine turned and began to walk quietly back.

"What are you doing?" Rafe whispered, following her. "Are you spying on them," he breathed into her neck, hovering behind her shoulders. There was a trace of laughter in his voice.

"Shh. She's my best friend. She'll tell me everything he's saying later tonight anyway. And I have to make sure nothing goes wrong. If this starts to take a bad turn, I have to be here to make a convenient entrance and bail her out. They're my family, two of the people I love most in this world, and I couldn't stand to see either of them hurt. If you call that spying, then yes, I am."

Rafe kissed the back of her neck lightly. "I know. Raoul and I came through our roughest years together. He was like a brother to me throughout our teenage years. I understand. We are, however, running out of wood, and I think I can trust you to keep this situation with our "siblings" under control. Don;t wander off and get lost, hmm?" She swatted at him without even looking, intent on hearing the conversation, but Rafe was already gone.

"Do you think they've gone yet?" Raoul's voice asked in normal conversation volume.

"Probably. It's been about ten minutes," Meg's voice responded quietly. Quiet was her normal volume, though.

"Good. I really did want to talk to you, Meg, but I wanted it to be private. I knew pretending to say things which make you blush in such a pretty, maidenly manner would run them off!" He laughed, and Meg joined in softly. "Meg," he said gently. "I find myself... thinking of you often. Increasingly often, it seems. I realize it seems a bit ridiculous, since I only just began to understand that Christine doesn't love me, and my love for her will die slowly. But you are such a different person! I am drawn to you calm, you self-assurance, your... innocence. I don't know if I can ever come to love you, but I want to try. If I ask your mother for permission, may I court you?"

There was a long silence, which quickly turned awkward for Raoul. Suddenly Christine heard Meg laugh, and she could imagine her friend hugging him. "Yes," she breathed, "yes. yes. I would like nothing better." Christine could make an accurate guess as to what would happen next, so she quietly slipped through the shadows to the edge of the firelight. Just as she'd predicted, the pair was close together on the log, and Raoul leaned in to slowly claim Meg's lips. Christine knew it was Meg's first kiss, and almost revealed herself by laughing in pleasure. Meg was at first resistant, more shocked than anything, but slowly she gave in to Raoul's persistence. Their kiss was sweet and tender, unhurried, as though they had an eternity to begin to know each other.

Christine's joy quickly began to fade as she remembered her own last kiss. It had been so different from the one she witnessed now. There had been no room for patience, for tenderness. It had been frantic, almost desperate, and passionate, fueled by the hunger for a love long denied consummation. She touched her lips softly, still remembering the taste of him, as tears filled her eyes. Suddenly, she realized how cold the night had become. Suddenly, she knew how lost she was, how utterly alone. Her tears spilled over, and she sank to the ground, burying her head in her knees, shaking with silent sobs.

It was only a few moments before Rafe found her, crying in a huddle on the forest floor. He dropped the load of wood he was carrying and ran to her, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around her.

"Christine, what is it? What's wrong?" he asked quietly as he pulled her into his lap. She buried her face into his shoulder.

"I'm so afraid to be alone," she whispered. "I can't live without him."

Rafe moved her away from him to look into her eyes. "Christine, you will never be alone, I promise you. I think I'm beginning to love you. So," he sighed seeing the slightly panicked look she gave him, "I cannot stand to see you broken like this. I will do everything in my power to find Erik. Promise me something, though."

"What is it?"

"If, for any reason, he refuses you, promise that you won't do anything... drastic. Promise me that if he breaks your heart, you'll give me the chance to mend it."

"I will promise as long as you will promise me something."

"Anything," he breathed.

"If, for any reason, he does not refuse me, promise that you won't do anything... drastic. Promise that if I break your heart, you'll give another woman the chance to mend it."

He stared at her face a moment, emerald eyes somber. "I promise."

"Then so do I."

"Come," he said, standing easily, even with Christine in his arms. "It's gotten cold, and you've had a very long day. It's time to get you to bed." He carried her back into the circle of firelight as Raoul and Meg broke apart sheepishly. Rafe raised an eyebrow at them, but did not seem surprised.

"Hmm. Getting along as well as usual, I see. Raoul, I think it's time we escorted these ladies safely to their beds, don't you? And sadly, I don't think that means accompanying them, my friend." Raoul grinned, then looked puzzled about Rafe's armful, but the green gaze clearly said "don't ask."

Raoul cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ahem, yes, to bed then. It's late, and I'm sure they have much meaningless female babble to discuss in minute and microscopic detail. Come, Meg," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the horses, helping her mount. Rafe carried a protesting Christine to her horse and finally set her down to help her into the saddle.

"Really, sir, I can walk on my own, you know," she told him impatiently. He chuckled softly, kissing her hand, and her anger melted. "But I appreciate your concern."

"Any time, my lady." Rafe bowed with flourish as Christine rolled her eyes. "Get on your horse," she demanded playfully.

"As you wish," he said as he bowed again, then smoothly mounted. The four rode off in companionable silence until they reached the stables, where they parted ways; the men went off alone to mull over the day's occurrences, while the two women hurried to Christine's room so they could discuss everything that was tumbling through their minds.


End file.
